Fever (Anasazi
by Sheryl Nantus
Summary: A exploration of the night Mulder spends with Scully, sick with death of his father.


All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part...I like being poor, really... 

AuthorÕs Note: Although I donÕt like to write stories that directly relate to any specific episode, a request from a reader about what happened between Mulder passing out in ScullyÕs bed and when he wakes up in Anasazi led to this, my interpretation... yah, I know, you all have your own twist on it, so please be gentle... 

Fever (Anasazi)by Sheryl Martin 

Dana Scully pulled the washcloth off of Fox MulderÕs forehead, putting her hand to his cheek. He was still warm - too warm for her comfort. Getting up, she went into the kitchen. filling a small bowl with cool water, she returned to his bedside; snatching the thermometer from the bathroom on her way. 

ÒScully?Ó His raspy voice croaked. ÒScully... they killed my father...Ó His eyes stayed shut as he broke out into a sweat again. 

ÒQuiet.Ó Dana began to unbutton his shirt, noting with relief that the bloodstains werenÕt his own. Her fingers faltered for a second when she realised whose blood it must have been. 

Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled Fox up to sit on the bed. His eyelids flickered once as she tugged the sleeves free. 

ÒMy father...Ó He mumbled, falling forward slowly to rest on her shoulder. Gently laying him back on the pillows, Dana undid his pants. 

ÒBe a lot of women whoÕd like to be in my shoes right now.Ó She said with a smile as she pulled his jeans off. Piling the clothes at the foot of the bed, she wrung out the face cloth. ÒProbably be the only time you ever let me get the last word...Ó 

Brushing the damp strands of hair away from his forehead, she put the thermometer in his mouth. Turning his head from side to side, Fox grimaced, his eyes trying to open and failing. 

ÒMulder... I need to get a temperature...Ó She put a hand on his cheek; holding his face tenderly. He stopped moving and relaxed into her palm with a deep sigh. Mimicking her, he raised a hand to her face; resting it against her cheek. 

ÒSchmulli...Ó The thermometer bobbed around in his mouth. 

ÒDonÕt speak.Ó Dana said softly. His palm sat against her skin; sending a shiver down her spine. Lightly running his fingers down her neck, he dropped his hand back down to the bed. 

ÒOne hundred and two...Ó She frowned at the reading. Leaving him; she went to the bathroom, returning with aspirin and water. Taking ahold of his shoulder, she shook him lightly. 

ÒMulder, take these.Ó His eyes shot open, trying to focus. 

ÒWhat?Ó The words came out slurred. 

ÒHere.Ó She pressed the pills into one hand, waiting patiently to hand him the glass. ÒSwallow and drink.Ó He drunkenly threw them back, reaching for the water. Holding her hands over his, she watched him drain the glass, falling back onto the pillows. 

Refreshing the cloth, Dana began to pat down his neck and chest, feeling the heat radiate off him in waves. He murmured as she continued to rub his arms down; the cool water refreshing his body. 

She lightly sponged down his legs, pausing at the sight of the bullet scar on his thigh. He had almost died that time, with Boggs... Images of her father suddenly raced into her head, and she stared at his exhausted face. Biting her lip, she left the room to get changed. It was going to be a long night... 

Fox opened his eyes, blinking as he focused on the ceiling. Shuffling to one side, he sat up on the edge of the bed. Rolling his tongue around his mouth, he stood up unsteadily and reached for the doorframe. 

Spinning around in the bathroom, Dana saw him fall into the chair. She had just pulled on an oversized tshirt and sweatpants, intent on nursing him for a few more hours until she had to go into the office... She walked over, taking his arm. 

ÒMulder, you have to go back and lie down.Ó Her firm tone echoed around the room. 

ÒNo... I have to go find them...Ó He rested his head on his hands, slumping forward. 

ÒNot like this you canÕt.Ó Pulling him to his feet, she pushed him back to the bedroom, ignoring his weak protests. 

ÒStay put.Ó She propped the pillow up behind his back. Nodding, he closed his eyes, listening to her wring out the cloth. It touched his forehead again, then ran down to his cheek. 

A tear tricked down FoxÕs face, mingling with the wet cloth she held against him. His eyes stayed shut as a sob broke from his throat; tearing at her heart. 

Suddenly lunging forward, he hugged her tightly. DanaÕs arms went around him protectively as he cried uncontrollably into her shoulder; her hand stroking the back of his neck softly. 

ÒShush...Ó She whispered into his hair as he shook against her, great racking sobs breaking free. Clutching her to him tightly, Fox whimpered as she began to rock him slowly; her own tears running down her face into his hair. 

ÒThey killed him...Ó He moaned into her shirt. ÒThey killed him...Ó 

ÒItÕs going to be alright...Ó She murmured as he shivered. Pulling back, he opened his eyes, staring directly into hers. 

ÒI...Ó He closed them again; putting his head on her chest as he continued to cry quietly. 

Moving up on the bed, Dana rested her left hand on his cheek, humming softly. Wrapping her other arm around him, she listened to his ragged breathing become slower and steadier. He clung to her arms; lulled by the rhythmic rocking and the pulsing of her heartbeat into sleep. 

Running her fingers through the damp hair, she felt him begin to relax; the tension leaving his body as he rested against her. Bending over, she lightly kissed the top of his head, closing her eyes as she continued to hold him tenderly. 

ÒI know...Ó Dana said softly. ÒHe was your father...Ó 

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"If you will practice being fictional for a while, you will understand that fictional characters are sometimes more real than people with bodies and heartbeats."Richard Bach -- "Illusions" 


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